Jim represents a very small demographic on this planet. Originally from Garret, Texas—a town of about 150 people—he now resides in Costa Rica and Panama, owning the title of the fastest man in Central America over the age of 65. He's captained boats around the world, managed boutique hotels, designed residential homes, and at one point during his 30-year stint in Costa Rica, lived without keys or shoes for seven years.

Before this trip, I thought I had a good grasp on Jim's story, a good idea of what he's done in his life. But sure enough, our bonding time unveiled brand new stories, like the days he carried a gun, trading gemstones in Brazil. He reeled off jobs he'd done donkey-back in the drug-infested mountains of Columbia and macadamia farms he'd managed in the Atlantic. He'd oftentimes follow up these bizarre memoirs of his past, with a statement that perfectly represents the Jim of today:

“I'm really becoming...oh what's that word...the opposite of a pessimist...whatever that is.”

"You mean an optimist?"

"Yea. I'm really turning into an opticist."

Jim is idiosyncratic—a self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades, and master of none. He can build you a natural breakwater marina, yet still can't figure out how to charge his laptop or use the back windshield wiper.

“It's rainin' harder than a cow pissin' on a flat rock,” Jim said before we got out into the downpour.

“What?”

“Haven't you ever listened up close to a cow pissin' on a rock or somethin'?”

“Actually no Jim, I haven't. In fact, I don't think I've listened up close to any animal pissing on a rock. Is this something that you've done before?”

“Well yeah,” he said, as if I had just questioned the truth of his existence.

As he glanced over at my laptop and the antics of his that I was documenting, Jim requested my attention.
”Yes” I rolled my eyes.

“Put this in that block of yours, OK?”

“It's called a blog Jim”

“Just put it in the damn block!” He paused for a few seconds, first taking a deep breath, then saying something profound:

“F*ck the postal service! Rain, sleet, wind or snow does not deter the developer's...” he paused again, reaching into that deep and cavernous vocabulary of his. “I've got to find something that rhymes with snow.”

“Flow?” I suggested.

“That's it. Flow. Does not deter the developer's flow.”

6:00 the next morning arrived with an obnoxious and unwelcomed wave of Axe body spray coming from Jim's side of the room. We left the hotel and met Julio Casas, a farmer interested in selling his land. He hopped into the back of the car like a little bunny rabbit and led us down an hour-long road along the Western coast of the Azuero Peninsula—through the gorgeous towns of Malena, Torio, and Morrillos. The views were just stunning as this rugged coastline of lime green hills and rolling landscape fed right into the crashing waves of the Panama Pacific coast. Parcels of the land we passed were being offered for something like $0.30/square meter which in non-real estate terms is supposedly like buying a Brooks Brothers suit for ten bucks. I snapped a photo of Jim discussing some possibilities down on the beach with Julio.

We pulled down a small mud road towards the beach but found we could not pass because the bridge was in repair. I reminded Jim of the phrase he so thoughtfully and proudly came up with earlier and suggested he drive through the river below—being that nothing stops a good developer. I was offering him the perfect opportunity to prove that he does actually take his new vehicle—a shiny Toyota Land Cruiser—off-road. I kept bugging him, the way you do when someone's too chicken to take your dare, until he gave in and threw the truck in four wheel drive.

We entered the river and waded through it with skill. Really with panache. The scene belonged in a car commercial—you know, the one urging you to “tell better stories” with the purchase of a new 4x4. We parked up on the sand of a beach and admired a gorgeous coastline of palm trees, lemon groves, and breaking surf. There was this misty haze over the ocean which made it look almost like it had disappeared—a really neat effect which my camera picked up nicely. A few feet inland was this tiny little fishing village of about three houses, showing wind and wear. There were some huge lots out here and I could easily see myself sitting atop one of them, playing Chutes and Ladders and sipping lemonade by the garden.

The area of Punta Duarte is a beautiful region with lots of intriguing, jagged little inlets and bays. The views from almost anywhere are really spectacular and a few lush islands pepper the Panama Pacific coast. The nearby Isla Coiba is this serene little island with great fishing, snorkeling, and diving. The area appears to be limitless in terms of real estate opportunity and I brought back with me a bunch of phone numbers and great contacts should anyone be interested.

It rained all the way back to the city—the different intensities of rain, for me, conjuring up images of different sized animals pissing on flat rocks.
”It's raining harder than a squirrel pissing on a flat rock” I whispered to Jim.

“How would ya' ever know what that sounds like?”

Places to stay and eat:

-Hacienda Hotel, Santiago, Panama: On the Pan-American highway. This place in Santiago is run by a Mexican couple. They've imported everything from their homeland and the place has the real feel of a south-of-the-boarder hotel—or so I've been told, having never been to Mexico. The rooms are nicely furnished with a/c, cable TV, hot water and a pretty decent restaurant. Rates are about $30/night. See two photos below...

-Hawaii Restaurant, Aguadulce, Panama: On the Pan-American highway. Open-air restaurant in Aguadulce which serves some pretty mean Chinese food. Among our favorites were the beef chow fun (big broad noodles with Chinese broccoli and a spicy soy broth) and the pollo asado (priced for one at $1.50 but big enough to feed three).

Interested in buying some property in this little piece of heaven? Contact us...

Also, check out the Panama Pictures from this little adventure!

Get back to more Panama Travel Articles

and no blog by me would be complete without a man walking down the road with a machete

Comments (2)

serena from Florida: man Yes, the man with a machete.... walking down the road. What else would you be carrying? 1 January 18, 2008 Xanatos: so much else of course i could be carrying a laptop, my ipod, and stuff , for getting away from people like you , "serena from florida" 2 March 05, 2008

Write comment

Name

Email

Title

Comment

Write the displayed characters

Add Comment